The Last Call
by SamandDianeOTP
Summary: Taking place after "I Do, Adieu ". The truth was, she did in fact call him. And it was the last call that made things turn out the way they did. It was supposed to be a one-shot, but I decided to do Diane's POV too.
1. Sam's POV

**Hi again people! This was a just something that popped into my mind yesterday, so I started writing down whatever came to my mind. Then it turned out like this. A one-shot.  
It's a little weird when I'm writing an AU about them being married and then I make a fic about how things were after she left.  
Well, I just felt like I needed to write this idea down. So excuse me if this is upsetting.  
I just had to do it. So here it is.  
****  
**The last call

She called. Every day. At around the same time each day. She usually told how her day had been, how she was doing, how much she missed him and couldn't wait to come back. It could tear him apart because he had such little faith in her return. But the calls did give him the slightest bit of hope.  
The sound of her tender voice could make him calm anytime. He'd usually let her babble all she wanted until she realized it herself and asked how things was at Cheers. He would laugh and lie about how great it was going. It wasn't going great at all. He appeared a ghost or a lost soul. The first weeks the gang tried to cheer him up, telling him, that she wouldn't be calling if she wasn't planning on returning. But Sam knew that there's a difference between how you plan things and how they actually turn out. He felt lost when she wasn't around. He kept seeing her everywhere he looked. Sometimes he wondered if the calls even were real. Nevertheless, he tried to act normal when he was talking to her. He wouldn't do anything to upset her. He missed her terribly. Worse than he imagined before she left. He needed to feel her breath on his skin again. He needed to smell her hair. He needed to get into silly discussions with her. He just…needed her.  
All this seemed unreal to him. When they talked together on the phone everything seemed normal. The opposite of what it was. People were worried that this would make him boozing again. But to be honest, he didn't think that would happen. He should know by now that that wasn't the solution.  
Maybe he just needed to get away. 

It was a late afternoon. Sam had decided to take off a little earlier. Carla and Woody promised to close the bar.  
When he arrived at his apartment the first half hour went with looking out the window. Observing the streets outside. It was like being in a trance. That was until the phone rang. He woke up from his trance and went to pick it up.

"Hello."

"Sam?" she said.

He had completely forgotten about the daily call.

"Oh, Diane. Sorry, I—I just got home," he lied.

"I called at Cheers, but Carla said that you've had gone home early."

"Yeah, that's right."

"Is something wrong, Sam?"

Is something wrong? You might say that. Things weren't going exactly smooth.

"No- I was just a bit tired that's all."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. So…How was your day?"

"Uhm."

She hesitated.

"Well, it could have been better," she said with a low voice.

"Has it something to do with the book?"

"Sam, you don't need to worry. Things will be… fine. I just have to make some minor changes, that's all."

"It's okay, you know. You can tell me. I won't be mad."

"Tell you what?" she asked bitterly.

"That you'll postpone the return."

"That's not necessary! There's plenty of time for me to get this published."

"I know, but—you don't need to feel that there's a pressure from my side."

"I don't feel any pressure. Sam, I will come back."

"Sure."

"Why won't you believe me," she asked sadly.

The question was unexpected.

"It's not that I don't believe you, it's just—"

"What, Sam?" she asked determent.

"I just think that you should put aside this promise of yours and focus on what's important right now."

"Right now? You don't think you're important right now?"

"That's not what I-"

"Yes, it is. You don't think I'll come back because by the time I get this published, I've forgotten all about you. All about us. The only thing that matters will be the success of a published book."

He didn't know what to respond. He just remained silent.

"I'm going to prove you wrong," she said.

"Diane, this isn't a bet!"

"Perhaps not. But since your trust is nowhere to be found, I'll have to show it to you. I **will** finish it. I **will **get it published. And the minute I do, I **will** start packing. Did you hear what I just said? I'll be back before you know it."

"Diane please-"

"You'll have to excuse me, Sam. I have a novel to finish. Goodbye."

She hung up before he even had a chance to say another word. The guilt filled the room with darkness. He got up, walked into the bedroom and started packing. 

He had seen it in an article. It was perfect for a trip around the world. Or more precise, the ocean.  
It would cost him close to everything he owned. Including the bar. He wasn't sure how to break the news to the people in the bar. But he knew he had to someway. He needed to do this. He needed to get away. 

Everything was set. The boat was waiting for him outside Boston. All he had to do now was to say a pleasant goodbye to Cheers and the people there. Some people like Norm, Cliff and Carla didn't get why he would do this. They tried everything to change his mind, but they soon found out, that wouldn't happen. The only person who understood him was Frasier. He maybe didn't like for Sam to leave, but he got it. He even agreed that perhaps it was a wise thing to do.  
During the goodbye to the life he knew of at the bar, she followed him everytime he turned. Looking at him like he should feel regret and guilt. He also did. But just seeing the illusions of her assured him that it was the right thing to do. In his heart he knew he would never see her again. Why make it worse by waiting for something that wouldn't happen?  
He turned to walk out the door when the sound of the phone ringing paralyzed him for a second.  
He looked at his watch and sure enough, it would be her.  
He turned at the gang, shook his head, and waved goodbye. The door closed behind him and he let out a deep sigh. While he was walking to the place his car was parked, he felt as though, the phone was still ringing. It never stopped.


	2. Diane's POV

She hung up. Her cheeks were burning and her eyes were near tears. She rose from the flowered chair, she was currently sitting on and went straight into the room she preferred as her 'writing place'.  
It had been a long night. She wouldn't stop writing before she noticed the sun was rising in the horizon. It was now 8 am and she felt exhausted. Nevertheless she started writing just after she had poured herself some coffee. Outside birds were singing in chorus and a mild breeze came through the window and hit her right in the face. She couldn't get him out of her head.

"_I just think that you should put aside this promise of yours and focus on what's important right now."_

She got furious just thinking about the conversation. What made him so insure? He was the one who forced her to leave. He was the one who told her to take her shot. Why would he do that if he thought she would never come back to him again?

"_Have a good life."_

He hadn't believed in her from the beginning. She knew that, but she tried to push the thought away while writing. She tried to convince him to trust her by calling every day at the same time. Still he sounded more and more distant for every day passing. She didn't know what more to do. She'd been close to pack her stuff, drop this for while at least, and just go home to show him that he meant everything to her. But then there was Sumner. Calling her every minute to hear how the book was turning out. Sometimes she ignored his calls just to avoid listening to his repulsive, confident voice. She didn't need his praise. She needed the publishers praise. But it seemed as though, he suddenly didn't saw her potential as bright now that she had left Cheers and Sam behind. He accused her for digressing and being on whole other pages. His last words had been that a great writer doesn't need to write thousands of pages to get the message out to the reader. She didn't know whether to agree or not. She just knew her novel had reached the number of 2000 pages. She wasn't sure if he had even bothered to read the half of it. To be fair, she didn't bother. Because she had no idea where she was going with it. For God's sake! The few hundred pages she had written before, she'd written 6 years ago! How could he demand for her to get right back on track after that long a pause?  
But apparently he could and this caused the situation to get even more complicated than it already was. Sam was back in Boston, waiting to see the finished, published work as proof, and all she had received until now was pure critic. She wondered if she even would be able to get it published if she didn't start to pull herself together. But it seemed that every time she'd force herself to be focused her thoughts fell on Sam. Cheers. The house. Their house. How was it living in that big house all by himself? Was he even living there? Was it even theirs anymore? It had been a short goodbye to the house from her side. She had packed a few things from there and then left.

She yawned and shook her head. She just had to focus a few more hours. Then she would prepare herself for the day's upcoming conversation with Sam. 

It rang. And it rang. It kept ringing for a long time. She started to wonder if he had gone home early again today. But at last someone picked it up. She was just about to apologize for yesterday's hung-up, but she got interrupted before she even could finish the first word.

"Listen, whitey, he isn't here."

"Oh. Carla. How nice to hear from you. Well then I'll just reach him at home instead-"

"I wouldn't count on it."

"What do you mean by that?"

"He- uhm. He just left, Diane."

She knew something was terribly wrong. She couldn't remember the last time Carla had called her by her name.

"Left? For where?!" she asked determent.

"The Ocean, I guess."

"Ha ha, Carla. I was just about to take you seriously but you can't fool-"

"I ain't fooling anyone right now! You listen to me, stick, he just left, the bar is sold to some huge company, and to be honest I'm not in the mood for talking so I'm just gonna make this conversation a short one. Don't expect him to pick up, okay?"

There was a pause, none of them said anything, but none of them hung up either. Then she started sobbing. To her comfort Carla wasn't being completely careless at the moment.

"I'm sorry, Diane. We- we really tried everything to make him change his mind and stay. We kept telling him to trust you, you know. Even I did. But it wasn't enough. I don't know why he couldn't wait and see for himself if you came back, he just, couldn't. To be fair, I think it hurts too much to stay. He kept giving that reading corner of yours stares. And then there was the door. He hasn't been himself since day one."

The sobbing only got worse.

"I mean it when I say I feel sorry for you. I may never have been a fan of you, or the way you changed Sam, but I guess you somehow made him happy. Just seeing him likes this, I mean, even when he was drinking his ass off he was less depressed. He uh- he didn't drink this time though. I don't know if that really matters to you right now but-"

For the first time in minutes, she opened her mouth to talk instead of sobbing.

"It- it does matter. Oh, Carla, I feel so terrible. I feel like throwing myself out of a window. Why would he do such thing? Why didn't he just ask me to come back?"

"See it from his point of view. He wouldn't wanna come between you and your dreams."

"He didn't! He's my dream! He's my biggest and most important dream. With him, nothing else matters."

"I'm sorry, whitey. There's nothing we can do. You just- have to prove him wrong, I guess."

"How? I have no opportunity for contacting him. We don't even know his location!"

"Finish the book. That's all that matters. It doesn't matter how bad it is, just show that it's done. He _will_ come back someday. And when he does, make sure to be here. I don't care how many times we need to speak together. Just- keep us updated, okay? Maybe we'll find a way to get him back before."

"Thank you, Carla."

"Sure. I'll talk to you later."

"Yes."

Carla hung up and for the first time in a long time, Diane felt like she was the only person left in the world. All by herself. Sam may not have drunk that night, but she sure had.


End file.
